Destined: Princess of Alamut
by KaneTales
Summary: It has been 20 years since Dastan and Tamina wed. Their rule has been peaceful and good, but there is a problem on the horizon: their eldest, Princess Danni, doesn't want the path she was born to. She's a warrior, like her father; not a princess like her mother. But when strange clansmen crash a royal banquet, Princess Danni will learn destiny has an odd way of revealing itself.
1. Chapter 1

Akos, Odon, Virag, and Miklos had lost their race against the sun. By the time the towering walls of Alamut came into view over the lip of the nearby cliffside, the sun had finished its passage across the sky and dipped below the horizon. No matter how hard they pushed their horses now, the gates would still be locked when they arrived, not to open again until dawn.

Such were the laws in the city of peace. Once dark covered the land, the gates remained shut.

Urging his steed to a stop before the final descent, Akos took in as much of the city as possible before all light disappeared. Everyone spoke of the majesty of Alamut's architecture. The city was legend for its beauty, yet with the gates locked for the night, Akos's eyes saw only the formidable walls that stood between him and the enemy.

Dirt billowed up into the air as Miklos pulled his horse to a stop next to Akos. "Do you think he made it in?"

Akos gave a curt nod. "He knows the walls of Alamut are his only hope to survive the night. He's in there."

The two men studied the city below in silence until Odon and Virag joined them on the lip of the cliff. No one spoke. There was no need. They all knew their roles once they reached the walls of the city. The only thing left to do was get there.

Virag turned the head of her horse first. "Race you."


	2. Chapter 2

Danni's attendants painted her body in silence as Danni sent a longing glance at her usual attire across the room. In the place of her usual leggings and armor, Danni now wore pristine white robes with gold ties and accents "suitable of her station." Everyone declared they were stunning, but that didn't change the fact that everyone Danni respected would be wearing breeches to the evening's event—not robes and dresses.

If the men Danni considered her peers didn't have to don dresses and paint their bodies for display, why should she? The older Danni got, the more the traditions applied to her sex irked. And while she was still able to play her part at events, she knew the gossip of her unusual ways was beginning to spread.

The women in the palace called her Prince Danni behind her back. Danni knew it…and she liked it. She could fight—and not just in the subversive ways all priestesses of Danni's station were trained in order to protect the secrets of the temple. Danni had learned the subversive fighting tactics of her mother, yes, but also the more wild and aggressive tactics of her father.

Danni grinned as she thought of her father. No man in all the realms fought like the King. None, not even Danni, although she was getting closer. And if Danni's ability to beat a man in battle caused those of her own sex to see her as separate, then so be it. The pros of being known as a fearsome princess far outweighed the cons, evidenced by the fact that Danni's hand had yet to be promised in marriage.

As princess, Danni could have been married off four years ago. But luckily, she had a father who adored her. And while drunk at a party several years back, he had allowed Danni to state the terms for the man who would claim her hand in marriage.

Her terms? The suitor must first scale the walls of Alamut—like the king before him—then he must defeat Danni in the sparring ring to prove himself capable of protecting her.

Neither event was likely to happen on its own, but the same man accomplishing both? Impossible.

First off, Danni's father had improved the walls since he scaled them nearly twenty years before. They were now impassable—a fact proven by around the world each and every night.

Second, Danni spent her days learning combat skills from her father's elite. True, there were some among her father's army who could best her, but not many. And her dad's warriors were the best. If only a few of them could best her, then it stood to reason that Danni had an excellent chance at living out her days as a virgin priestess.

Danni could imagine no better fate.

All her life, Danni had watched the love of her parents and known that such love could only exist once in a century—maybe even once in a millennium. If she could have what her parents had, Danni would happily marry. But every male Danni had ever encountered paled in the shadow of her father, and Danni could not marry a man she did not respect.

Luckily, fate had gifted Danni had an older brother and a younger sister who could both marry. In time, Danni would convince her parents to let Mazda and Luna continue the family line. Danni's place was within the temple.

The sound of guards coming to attention in the hallway drew Danni's attention the door a moment before her mother stepped through it dressed in violet and gold. People said that the Queen of Alamut was the most beautiful woman of her generation, and they did not lie.

Her mom looked Danni over and smiled. "So it would seem my daughter still existed under that dirt after all."

Danni rolled her eyes. "I'm surprised you can recognize me under all this paint."

"It's the robes that throw me off," her mom teased. "You no longer look like a boy with your hair down and your curves released from binding."

Danni sent her mom a droll look. "I'm sure Javed will be pleased."

The queen's eyes narrowed as Danni watched her fight back a smile. "Don't be mean spirited, my dear. It's unbecoming of a princess."

"My apologies, Mother," Danni said in mock sincerity. "You're right. I'm sure Javed won't notice at all." And that was the truth…probably more of it than her mother cared to hear, which was why Danni refrained from elaborating.

Her mother pressed her lips together and moved closer. "I know you are friends with Prince Javed, Danni, but you should still take care to not say things that can be construed as criticism behind his back."

"He knows I'm only teasing him," Danni said as the servant painting her arms finished and stepped away.

"Yet those who hear you may not understand your specific brand of humor," her mother said, nodding her approval of her artwork to the servant and excusing her. A few moments later Danni's mother approved the art of the second servant, who had prepared Danni's face. The servant bowed and retreated, leaving Danni alone with her mother.

"You look stunning, my dear," her mom said.

As flattering as the words were, Danni hated them. So she was beautiful like her mother…so what? Everyone treated that fact as if it's highest purpose was to be gifted to the future king—as if it was some sign that Danni was indeed chosen to bear future heirs.

Ridiculous. All of it. Yet tradition dictated that Danni should assume power after her mother and bear the next high priestess. Her brother Mazda would inherit command of the armies, Danni would inherit the throne, and her younger sister, Luna, was the one who had the option to live as a priestess in the temple, if she so chose. Yet it was Luna who had the temperament for a husband, and it was Danni whose heart pined for the temple.

It should be Luna dressed in fine robes and painted from head to toe that night. It should be Luna eating dinner with the families of hopeful suitors. Luna had the personality for it—the blushing flirtation that made a man feel strong. Danni had never excelled at coyness, despite her years of training.

The queens of Alamut were notoriously beautiful. Danni knew this, but she also knew that the beauty she had been gifted with was designed to distract men into underestimating her. It was Danni's birthright to train in combat, but as high priestess, her skills should have remained a secret, like her mother's. The serene woman standing before Danni that moment could stand against a man in a fight, but no one would ever guess it. Her mother's smooth skin and slight frame made her look like an easy mark.

Not true. The queen was fierce in a fight…yet very few people knew. But _everyone_ knew Danni could fight. It was pretty much the only thing they knew about her, other than the fact that she dressed more like her father than her mother.

Danni stood where she was as he mom looked over her robes, straightening them where needed.

"You know why Prince Javed is here tonight, yes?" her mother asked.

Danni let out a quick sigh. "Of course."

Her mother continued inspecting her clothes. "There are worse things than marrying a man who respects you."

"There are better things, too," Danni countered.

Her mother nodded. "True. But Javed is reaching the point where he must make a decision. If he marries another, then you will lose your chance at the one man who might accept you as you are in a marriage."

There was that. Javed was a soft-handed prince. He had no taste for battle and teased Danni of her obsession with it, just as she teased him for his love of collecting pretty things and building overly ornate buildings. Between the two of them, they could joke openly about what everyone else was forced to whisper—the fact that when it came down to it, Danni was more a man than Javed, and Javed was more of a woman than Danni would ever be.

She and Javed were friends, yes, but the thought of bearing his children? The thought of her children looking to Javed as their role model?

Absolutely not.

"I will be happy when Javed marries another princess," Danni said. "I shall dance at his wedding and kiss the hand of his new wife."

Her mother said nothing.

"I will have a man worthy to continue the legacy of my father, or I will have none at all."

A smile crept onto her mother's lips. "You know you are setting yourself up for failure by making such demands, daughter. The universe does not make duplicates. The man you marry will be different than your father."

"Time will tell," Danni said. "You waited, and are you not glad for it? You were ten years older than I when you consented to marry father."

The queen gave a quick nod. "True. But had my best friend been a prince who respected me as much as Javed respects you, things may have turned out differently."

Danni hated it when her mom said things like that. Her parents had been destined. She saw it every time their eyes locked across a room—as if they'd lived so many lifetimes together that they no longer needed words to communicate, but only a glance.

How could Danni want anything less? Her mother had once told her heart had recognized Danni's father the first moment she laid eyes on him. According to Danni's father, things hadn't been quite so easy as that, but he did agree that his heart had fluttered at first sight as well. Then again, her father was always quick to point out that the hearts of many men lost step when looking upon Danni's mother. The queen's beauty brought any man to his knees. Her father's stance was that fate had simply chosen him as the lucky one.

Now, even twenty years later, that was how Danni's father spoke of his queen, so how could she want less? If that's the way it had been with her parents, why shouldn't it also be the legacy with Danni's children...if there were indeed going to be any? Because she would rather bear no children at all, than breed children into a sterile, political union.

That would not be her legacy. She would serve the temple first.

Danni's mom stepped back and gave her one last appraising look. "You are a vision, my daughter. Sometimes I don't know how I played a part in your creation."

"Then you do not look in a mirror often enough, Mother. I have yet to match your beauty."

"You surpassed it long ago, my child," she said with a soft smile. "Come. Our guests have arrived. Let us join them. And do not balk when you are seated next to Prince Javed. He will make an offer this evening. Do not demean the fact that you are his first choice. There is nothing un-noble about seeking the hand of a friend in marriage."

"I know, Mother," Danni said. "I will be kind."

 _Kind, but firm._ Prince Javed may be her best friend, but that was all they would ever be. Allies. Neighboring seats at a dinner party and one courtesy dance at each event. That was the future she wanted with Javed, and nothing more.

"Very well," her mother said before inviting in their escorts.


	3. Chapter 3

The front gates of Alamut were taller than a tree. They were also locked. Burning torches flickered around gates that had only been breached once in the city's history, if all the stories were true. Although when it came to a place like Alamut, it was nearly impossible to decipher fact from fiction.

No guard prohibited Akos and his team from approaching the gate, nor was a defensive force necessary. With walls that rose to more than double the size of any tree, there was no need for guards other than those posted at the top of its heights.

"We'll circle the city and look for the best entrance," Odon said, urging his horse onto the path that circled the walls. They each fell in line behind his lead, Akos noting how well the path around the city was worn in before directing his eyes upward to the smooth walls above.

These walls had not been built by untutored hands. The workmanship was fine and well maintained to ensure no handholds or footholds to any fool ambitious enough to climb.

"Akos, look ahead," Odon said.

Akos brought his eyes down to see a gathering of eight men ahead. Their clothing indicated that the men had nothing in common—not even a language—and yet the men seemed united in purpose as they examined the wall together in their disparate clothing. The guards above paid them no mind, and Akos got the sense that this was not the first night the eight men had spent outside the gates.

But why?

"I shall speak with them," Akos said and Odon nodded his approval. As they approached the men, Odon pulled his horse to a stop. Akos fell in line next to him, followed by Virag and Miklos.

"Good evening," Akos said in the dialect of the region. "We greet you in peace. What language do you speak?"

A few of the men looked his way, but none replied. Akos tried the same greeting in Latin.

One man in fine robes looked his way. "My attendant and I speak Carian. What is your business?"

"Our business is catching a thief," Akos replied in Carian. "That which has been stolen from us now lies within the gates, and we seek it."

"Then your property is safe for the night," the man replied. "Your thief cannot exit until dawn."

Akos pressed his lips together and glanced at the man who clung to the wall, arms shaking as his eyes sought out a higher grip to leverage. As it was, the man was barely a horse's height above the ground.

"It appears that you make sport of climbing the wall here," Akos said. "May we inquire as to why?"

The man in fine robes turned to face them, reaching for a torch and stepping their way to cast more light on Akos and his party. When he did, his eyes widened for a moment and his reply came quickly. "We seek the audience of the king for the princess's hand in marriage."

In that moment, the man clinging to the wall missed his next handhold and scraped his way down the side of the wall. Akos glanced up to the disinterested guards above. They were laughing and clapping.

"So it is not illegal to scale the wall after nightfall?" Akos asked.

"No," the man replied. "Just impossible. Yet the king has promised any man who scales the walls one royal request. We gather here because this is the weakest section of the wall. If there is any place a man will succeed, it is here."

Akos pressed his fist to his heart in a common gesture of goodwill. "We wish you success," he said to the stranger.

"And may you have success in locating your thief," the man replied, looking happy to end the conversation.

Akos nodded and urged his horse forward. Odon paced him.

"What did he say?"

"It is not illegal to scale the walls," Akos said, looking up again. "It is an open challenge from the king, which will gain me audience."

"A fair enough prize," Virag said, looking up. "These walls are smooth as sandstone. The king has structured them with care."

"And tests his fortress nightly for weakness," Miklos added. "Wise, indeed."

"Let us scout on the east wall," Akos said. "I will need the light of the moon rise to guide my climb."

Virag let out a short laugh. "You will need more than that, falcon."

Akos nodded, still working through his options in his mind. He had scaled more walls in his life than he had ever chosen to count. As herald, one of his roles within the tribe was to stand atop any high ground that made him visible to all, as if he were a falcon who had alighted on the spot. That particular skill was how Akos's sect had earned the name of falcon.

Falcons found the high ground or died trying. And if experience had taught Akos anything, it was that there was always a way. He just needed to find it.

Perhaps the moon would show him the way.

Odon dragged his hand along the wall as they moved, testing it as they traveled east. When he pulled his hand away, Odon nodded his approval. "The king is wise to disguise the mortar between his bricks with this top covering. We cannot put faith in a ladder of arrows. There is no certainty that they will hold."

Akos nodded his agreement. The king of Alamut was clearly no fool. The paste covering the wall went just high enough to be greater than the size any felled tree could lift a man to. The king truly understood warfare, which was an odd paradox for a man who ruled a city known for its peaceful ways.

Still, Akos could use a tree to get him about one-third of the way up the wall. Yet once at that height, Akos would have no more advantage than starting at the ground.

"Here," Akos said, spotting a crack in the mortar that ran its way up a portion of the wall.

Everyone stopped as Akos dismounted and reached out to test the crack with his fingertips. The crack was small enough to be neglected yet not so big enough that it gave way under pressure. It was Akos's best shot, but he would need to do the climb with as little weight as possible.

"Hold," he said to his horse as he began to disrobe and stack his clothing on his horse's back. His outer coat came first, followed by his herald hat. His arm guards came off next and he stowed them in his bag of belongings, along with his hat. He pressed his shirt against the wall, dragging it lightly to see if it would grip. When the fabric snagged on the wall, Akos quickly removed his shirt as well. The slightest tug at the wrong moment might kill him.

Wearing only buckskin leggings and shoes, Akos attached a fine, nearly weightless rope to the back of his belt then pulled out his bag of powder and tied it to the side of his belt. Once he was situated, Akos coated his hands with the fine layer of powdered rock to give himself more grip.

Odon glanced up at the distant summit. "Shall we prepare the blanket for an untimely descent?"

Akos followed Odon's gaze up and gave a quick nod. "It never hurts to leave room for a second try."

Odon chuckled and went to grab his sleep blanket. He handed one corner to Virag and one to Miklos while taking the other two himself while Akos picked his path up the wall. It was no way certain, and there were blind spots Akos would only be able to see clearly once he was on top of them, but he must try. He quickly stretched his arms and legs then hit the wall before the strength from his adrenaline began to wane.

Akos's fingertips barely fit the crack while his feet dangled free beneath him. For the moment there was nowhere for his feet to go. The plastered portion of the wall would be arms only.

The first ten feet passed quickly before leading Akos into a segment where the crack widened enough for him to catch the toe of his boot in it and take some weight into his leg while he got some more powder on his hands. The plaster on the wall didn't allow for much grip. It was treacherous, but that would be the case no matter where Akos chose to climb. So once his hands were as covered as they could get, Akos continued up.

A quarter of the way up, Akos's forearms began to burn. By the time he reached the end of the crack in the plaster, his arms were beginning to shake. A third of the way up, he heard Odon warn the others to be at the ready. Refusing to look down, Akos kept his eyes on the goal, inching up and noting the visible bricks and the gaps between them just a man's height above him. Once he reached that area, this climb would become like many other climbs he had completed before.

He just had to cover the gap between where he was and where the bricks began.

Akos pressed his body to the wall, pulled it up and pressed through until his arms were extended below him. It was a position with no exit strategy. Either her was going up or he was going down. His next move would tell the story.

Pressing all his weight into two fingers, Akos quickly brought his left hand up, pressed it into the wall and launch his weight toward the nearest hand grip—willing his right hand to lock onto it. For the barest moment, his body touched nothing. Akos was suspended in air and he felt the sinking grip of gravity pulling him to the ground. Then his fingertips found their mark and locked on.

Akos dangled in disbelief for a moment, his mind not believing what his body had just pulled off. But he would have to analyze that victory against gravity later. He was over half way up and now had an actual wall to work with. And while that was easier, it still wasn't technically easy. He needed to get going before his forearms gave out.

He moved quickly, happy to now be able to use his legs and other large muscle groups as the wall got easier and easier until at last he stood on top of the massive walls.

He'd done it on his first try, and Akos could sincerely say that he hoped never to do it again. He thought back to his leap of faith at the transition, knowing that he should have fallen. All of his experience told him as much, yet here he was on top of the wall. It was impossible, yet it was.

He would have to meditate on this climb later.

No guards noticed Akos at first. No torchlight greeted him nor did he hear the idle conversation of bored guards. The area was unattended. Reaching to the back of his belt, Akos removed his rope and tied it off before throwing the length of it over the edge. Only then did he hear a shout of alarm from a guard's station about a stone's throw away. Torch light came into view, followed by the heavy footsteps of two guards approaching.

Akos stood where he was, arms outstretched, to show that he was unarmed.

"I seek audience with the king," he called out in Sumerian. It was an ancient city with an ancient language. All of the guards would speak at least that one common tongue.

"On your knees!" the guards cried out in return. "On your knees!"

Akos immediately complied, arms still outstretched so the guards could view the whole of him. "I was told it is lawful to scale the wall if one desired audience with the king."

"How did you get up here?" one of the guards shouted at him, ignoring Akos's words.

Akos pointed over the edge of the wall. "That way. And please be aware that I just threw a rope down to my friends. They will join us shortly. We are peaceful."

"We'll see about that," the other guard sneered, aiming an arrow into his chest. Akos let unnerved guard do as he would while as he watched the second guard send a messenger to the king.

It looked like might get that audience after all.


	4. Chapter 4

The throne room had been converted to a grand hall for the evening's events. Tables lined the perimeter of the room, giving each seat equal view to the entertainment in the center of the room. Two acrobatic brothers held the attention of all.

From his seat next to her, Javed leaned in and whispered, "I love it when they perform with their shirts off."

Danni sent him a conspiratorial smile and continued watching. She admired the agility of the performers—coveted it, really. She had some skill when it came to flipping and jumping, but these brothers put her to shame. At the moment, one brother sat on the other's feet and allowed himself to be flipped time and time again. So far she had counted seventeen flips… eighteen… nineteen… twenty… and then the brother was launched up to twice the height, completing a double back flip before landing on his feet.

"Outstanding!" Danni's father called out, clapping his hands together. The rest of the room joined the king in applause, including Danni.

Javed leaned in again. "I know many find it scandalous that your father invites commoners to entertain at events like these, but they truly are amazing, aren't they?"

Danni felt herself bristle at Javed's superior tone, but she nodded. "This beats a harp any day."

"Indeed," Javed said, his eyes moving between the brothers.

Danni glanced around the room to see if anyone was looking their way. "You are being rather transparent at the moment, Javed. I would advise a little more discretion."

He smiled at her. "My little Danni…always looking out for me."

She rolled her eyes.

"Accept my offer," he said, reaching over to squeeze her hand. "We are a good pair, you and I. There is balance between us."

Danni said nothing, keeping her eyes on the brothers as one stood on top of the other and moved into the next phase of their routine. With unfailing skill, they moved from one balance pose to the next.

"Just think of it," he said in a whisper. "Who else would you wish to sit next to on an evening like this? Who else understands how much you detest the silks that adorn your body—that they make you feel weak and ill prepared, just as my attire makes me feel bland and heavy. We understand each other. Where else will we find that quality in a mate?"

Javed did have a point, and if Danni didn't already have a plan for never marrying at all, she might have felt the lure of his words.

She sent Javed a coy smile. "Very well. Scale the city walls then defeat me in battle, and I shall petition my father."

Javed threw his head back and laughed, earning a few looks. Danni noticed that one of them came from her mother, who was watching their body language closely.

"I confess that your silly challenge for suitors has made for more than one fun night watching the walls," he laughed. "But it is certainly no test of true kingship. A monkey could climb that wall and toss you around one of your fighting rings, and then where would you be?"

Danni smiled. "At a very awkward wedding ceremony, I imagine."

Javed grinned as well. "That is an understatement, if ever there was one. But, for the record, that is a ceremony I wouldn't miss for the world."

"And a fitting addition to the tales people like to tell of me," she added.

Javed's smile faded. "A princess need not worry about the gossip of servants."

Danni took a breath. "That's the dream, isn't it?"

Javed hesitated, then nodded slowly. "That's the—"

A guard burst into the room, disregarding the acrobats as he charged down the center of the room toward Danni's father. The acrobats separated quickly, removing themselves from the guard's path as Danni's father stood, holding up his hand for the guard to stop.

"What is it, Simeon?" her father asked.

"The wall has been scaled, my Lord," Simeon blurted and the room went silent. Several pairs of eyes glanced Danni's direction and she was careful to ignore them, keeping her eyes on her father.

His head tilted as if he questioned what he'd just heard. "What did you say?"

"The wall has been summited, my Lord," Simeon repeated. "And the man seeks audience with you."

Murmurs of disbelief started bubbling up around the room, but her father's face remained impassive.

"Did you see this man accomplish the feat?" he asked.

The guard shook his head. "Abed saw the man and his party circling the perimeter, but when they stopped near the crack on the east side he thought to give them time to set up for the climb before watching them fail. When next he looked for them, one was atop the wall and throwing a rope down to his companions. Abed will be here shortly with all four of them."

Danni couldn't breathe as she realized Simeon wasn't kidding. No one had misheard his declaration. A man had summited the walls.

Impossible.

"Ready to meet your future husband?" Javed teased in her ear, and Danni earned several disapproving looks from other guests when she gave his arm a quick slap in response.

Suddenly Danni could feel her heart beat in her throat. A man had scaled the wall? And he was seeking audience with his father? That meant only one thing. It meant the end of everything good in Danni's life. She was only seventeen. She wasn't ready to be a bride.

Her father's eyes moved around the room, assessing the interest in the turn of events before saying, "My apologies, honored guests. But it appears I must honor a request for an audience. If you wish to be excused—"

Javed's father laughed out loud. "You can't be serious, Dastan. This audience will no doubt be a tale told for generations. I'm certain we all wish to see it."

Danni's father hesitated, then nodded. "Very well. All who wish to stay, may." When no one moved, her father looked back to Simeon. "Abed may bring our guest directly in."

Simeon nodded and exited the room as her father moved from his seat at the table and climbed up the steps to stand before his throne. All in the room were royalty in their own right, but her father could not meet any new guest on such equal footing. He had to be seated on his throne.

"Which suitor do you think it is?" Javed whispered in Danni's ear as footsteps in the stone halls grew louder. Now that no one in the throne room was speaking, the approaching steps were quite easy to hear.

Danni didn't answer, and her eyes found her mother's across the room. Her mom looked intrigued and a little amused…not worried at all. Was this a game to her?

As the footsteps grew closer, guests near the door began craning their necks catch first glance. The way their eyes widened before their mouths fell open and started whispering was not encouraging to Danni. Though her heart hammered in her chest, Danni carefully affixed a neutral expression to her face and raised her chin.

A man who scaled her father's wall deserved respect, and Danni would give him as much…before she defeated him in battle.

When the four captives were led in, bound at the wrists, Danni couldn't stop the gasp that escaped her as her eyes landed on a giant of a man dressed in leather and bone. His hair was dark like rich mud which made the water color of his eyes stand out from across the room, even against his fair skin.

Danni swallowed hard as she took in the giant's physique. He was not a cumbersome man, as many his height were. He moved easily in his skin and at a single glance Danni knew both he and his armor could easily take her.

"Dear gods, is that a woman?" Javed whispered from next to her.

Woman? Danni hadn't seen a woman, just a massively tall man that looked like a walking skeleton of some fearsome beast. However, Javed's words reminded her that four had been escorted into the room.

"What tribe is this?" Javed asked. "I do not recognize their markings…but I definitely approve. Good heavens, do I approve."

The whispers and looks of shock made even more sense when Danni lowered her eyes to the level of the other three guests. One was a woman, yes. She was dressed in black robes and had the same dark hair, water eyes, and fair skin as the giant. Next to her was a man of the exact same coloring who looked to be some sort of smith, but it was the fourth guest that had the eyes of every pair of eyes in the room.

As Danni's eyes landed on the fourth man, everything inside her seemed to freeze for a panicked moment. With one look, Danni knew that the fourth man had done as Simeon claimed. The young man was no more stripped down than the acrobats who had stood in his place moments before, and yet somehow looking up his bare form seemed more indecent.

His leggings were leather, she noted, as was his footwear. He wore no shirt, yet a large tattoo of a bird of prey covered his chest and runic lettering was tattooed down his arms and torso. Like his companions, the fourth man had fair skin and fair eyes. Unlike his companions, his hair was the color of corn silk and the long locks hung loosely, half braided, half not.

Danni's eyes trailed the peaks and valleys of the man's body. To scale the city walls, a man would have to be built like an animal, and this man was. His skin still glistened from his effort and the tips of his fingers appeared stained with blood underneath the white powder that coated his hands from wrist to fingertip.

But Danni's eyes didn't stay on the man's fingertips for long.

Her eyes didn't know where to stop when looking at him, and she dared not look anywhere too long since she was certain her reaction was being observed by gossips in the room. Her eyes naturally gravitated to the eight muscular ridges visible on his abdomen, and yet when she brought her eyes up to look to look properly into his eyes, she felt no less unsettled.

Who was this man, and how would he fair in battle? Danni felt her stomach clench in a strangely pleasant way.

"Were you all in such a hurry to get here that clothes were deemed unnecessary?" her father said to Abed, causing all the whispers to fall silent.

Abed fell to his knees. "Apologies, sire, but his clothes are down with their horses at the base of the wall. I have men fetching them now."

"Very well," her father said, remaining on his feet as he eyed his unexpected visitors. "I will give audience to the man who scaled my walls. Step up one step onto the platform and identify yourself."

The bare-chested man pressed his fist to his heart and stepped onto the platform. "Yes, king. I was told by men outside your walls that it was lawful and would result in the granting of a request from His Majesty."

Danni sent Javed a look of shock which he returned. She'd never heard a northerner speak Sumerian before. She'd never even heard one try. Neither had anyone else in the room, if the looks of shock meant anything.

"You speak our language well," her father responded in Greek.

"I am glad," the tattooed man replied, transitioning into Greek himself. "It has been many years since I had the opportunity to visit these lands."

Everyone in the room—Danni included—grew still as her father took one step down the staircase that led to the throne. It was custom to do so, but it didn't happen often. Most people spoke only one language.

"What is your name, soldier?" her father asked in Latin.

The man seem confused by the shift in languages, but he did not hesitate when responding in kind. "I am called Akos. But I must correct the king's notion that I am a soldier. I am not."

"Akoesh," her father said, testing the name on his lips before taking another step down and switching languages again. This time he spoke Aramaic. "I have never heard this name before. What does it mean?"

"It is not a direct translation," the man replied in Aramaic. "But the name means white falcon."

Her father took another step down.

"Unbelievable!" Javed whispered in Danni's ear. "How does a northerner know languages of the south?"

Danni sent Javed a look she hoped would silence him even as a cold claw of dread grip at her stomach. She had never seen her father move this far down the staircase for anyone other than another king.

By law, a king must be able to converse in all of the languages of the lands he ruled. No true king could put himself at the mercy of translators. The king of Alamut was required to speak the thirteen languages of his people, and this wall climber had just spoken four of them with fluency. Any man who spoke all the languages of the king was allowed to address the king as an equal.

"You are certainly white," her father joked in Phoenician. "Your coloring is very unusual for these parts."

"So I am told," the falcon-chested man replied. His Phoenician was flawless. "Although I do not often chance upon my own image."

Another step from her father, another language. Ammonite. "What brings you to my kingdom, white falcon? Why did you scale my walls?"

The man—Akos—kept his eyes up on Danni's father while his companions appeared to be growing restless behind him. The one dressed in bone armor muttered something that had Akos holding up his hand for patience.

"We seek a thief, good king," Akos replied in Ammonite. "A man who has stolen something quite precious from my people and who now uses your city as a sanctuary."

Her father took another step and switched to Arabian. "And this is what motivated you to scale my city walls?"

Akos bowed his head with a nod. "Yes, Lord. We believe the thief to be at an inn or in some business that accommodates travelers. We would ask royal permission to search these businesses for that which has been taken from us."

Her father took another step down and switched to Midianite. "And this is all you seek?"

The man kept his head down in a common gesture of humility. "This is all we seek, good king. And we seek to proceed immediately. The item is very important to us."

Danni blinked in surprise. Wait. He wasn't going to demand her hand in marriage? He had scaled the wall and already spoke eight of the thirteen kingly languages fluently and he was pretending not to have his eye on the throne?

Not possible. Her eyes narrowed on the man, suddenly distrusting him.

On his next step down, Danni's father revealed he shared her doubts in Arabian. "Have you ever been to Alamut before, Akos?"

The man shook his head. "Many throughout the world speak of your great city. I have heard many tales of its beauty and size, but they all paled to the reality. I saw your city only as the last rays of the sun were hitting it, but it was a majestic sight."

"That's nine," Javed muttered, as if Danni wasn't already counting the languages herself.

Her father's descent to equal footing with the fair-haired man continued with Phrygian. "And you've heard no other tales of our ways?"

"I am told that one is not to haggle prices at the market place," Akos replied. "That prices are set and equal for all."

Only two steps left. It was all Danni could do to remain in her seat and not confront the man herself.

Her father's eyes studied the man carefully. "And have you heard of the marriage that awaits the man who scales my walls?"

The tattooed northerner grew still and quiet for the first time since entering the chamber. For a moment he seemed honestly thrown off as his eyes moved around the room, meeting Danni's eyes for only the barest moment before passing on and seeming to pick up on the intensity with which onlookers awaited his answer.

"With respect, good king," Akos replied. "I am too young to take a wife, nor am I suited to the role of husband. I am the falcon of my people, and as such, will only marry after I grow incapable of travel. It is for these reasons, and not as an affront to the king, that must I decline any honor of marriage bestowed by the king. I request instead that my people and I be allowed to seek out what has been lost to us."

It was as if the entire room stopped breathing at once as her father took another step down.

"What did he say?" Javed asked. "I don't speak that one."

Danni held up her hand for silence. Last step, last language. This was it. The only other man Danni's father had descended all the steps for was another king. If he took another step, the news of this commoner would spread like wildfire throughout the kingdom.

Her father seemed to choose his question with care this time. "And may I ask, good Akos, what is the role of a falcon among your people?"

"I communicate our desire for peace among the lands and the tribes we encounter in our many travels. It is my role to stop needless battles before they begin and negotiate terms of surrender when initiation of battle cannot avoided."

Danni's father took the final step onto the platform where Akos stood—the action earning well-deserved whispers across the room that made the three foreigners not on the platform visibly nervous, although they kept their focus on Akos. Danni sensed that the giant of a man was in charge, but for the moment they all seemed to be deferring to Akos for their cues on how to behave.

Once on equal ground, her father returned to the language of their land. "And this role as falcon is why you speak so many languages?"

The man nodded. "My aptitude was discovered and nurtured while I was still young. I speak many languages."

Many? He'd just spoken thirteen languages without hesitation. How many more did he know?

Her father studied the three people standing behind Akos. "Do your friends speak Sumerian?"

Akos hesitated, then shook his head. "Languages are not their gifts. Their skills lie elsewhere. My tall friend, Odon, would be what you would call a general. The woman is named Virag, and she is a priestess, and Miklos is a metal smith."

What an unusual grouping of travelers, was all Danni could think. She couldn't imagine a scenario in which one of her father's generals would travel with a priestess, a metal smith, and a herald with no other troops.

Akos continued as if Danni's thoughts had somehow been spoken aloud. "The gifts of Miklos and Virag will lead us to the stolen item," he explained. "Together they will guide us to what we seek. I am here to communicate what we seek and why, and Odon is here to make sure the item stays in our care until we are able to gift it in Egypt. This is all we seek, good king. We simply need your permission to move about the city while our foe rests."

The mention of Egypt had everyone's eyes wide, but Danni's father showed no awe and remained focused on the present.

"And do you plan on killing this foe in my city?" he asked.

"We will be happy to abide by the laws of your land," Akos said diplomatically. "Please tell me your law so that I may communicate it to my companions."

"Thieves are arrested and tried for their crimes in Alamut. We do not tolerate citizen justice. All men are accountable for their actions—including retributions," her father said with authority.

Akos turned his head and spoke quickly to his friends in a language unlike any Danni had heard before. She didn't have to speak their language, however, to see that the three were not entirely pleased with what they heard. Only the big one—Odon—spoke, however, his voice booming against the walls as he said, "Es a fallokon kivul?"

Danni blinked as she tried to place the language or its origin.

Akos faced her father and translated. "And do these laws stand outside of your city walls as well?"

Her father surprised her by hesitating for a moment before answering, "Yes."

"Then we shall respect the laws of the land, King," Akos said. "We wish to leave no ill impression upon your people."

"Your good intentions are noted and appreciated." Her father stepped forward until he was face to face with the half-naked man. "I am intrigued by your people, Akos. I understand that you have a long journey ahead of you, but once you have regained your treasure, could I convince you and your companions to stay the day tomorrow so that I may learn more about your people and extend them an offering of peace?"

Akos tilted his head down respectfully. "With great respect, we decline the offering to stay. But perhaps my elders could visit your beautiful lands if the omens of the solstice bring them this direction."

"Them?" her father asked. "Would you not accompany your elders on such a visit?"

"Unlikely, good king," Akos replied. "I am still inexperienced and still learning. My tribe would send a much more capable falcon to communicate our hopes for peace."

More capable? Danni's mouth actually fell open at the man's words, even as her eyes began to study his tattoos with renewed focus. Danni had never seen a more well formed body in her life, and this man was claiming that he was at the bottom rung of his caste?

It simply wasn't possible.

"I see," her father said. "And will those emissaries also be able to scale my wall?"

For the first time that Danni could tell, Akos let an honest expression peek through. A smile. "Not likely, good king. I must own that I have never encountered a more difficult obstacle. Forgive my familiarity in saying so, but if that is the test of marriage for your daughter, I fear she may never continue your royal legacy."

Her father surprised everyone in the room by laughing out loud. It wasn't long until everyone in the room joined him…everyone but Danni

"I'm sure she believed as much when she laid out the terms," her father said. "Perhaps now she'll rethink her qualifications."

Yes. Danni definitely needed to rethink her qualifications immediately, because this half-naked tribesman had just passed her test for a worthy husband and her father's test for qualified king without faltering in the slightest. The only thing standing between this Akos and a chance at the throne was his own refusal, which happily didn't seem to be feigned.

But if Akos could breeze through the test so easily, then another of his people could do the same, which meant Danni was not as safe as she thought she was.

Danni watched her dad tilt his head thoughtfully as he regarded the unusual man in front of him. "Are you certain you do not wish to see my daughter before you refuse her?"

"I am certain, good king," Akos replied. "My companions and I seek only that which was taken from us, then we shall leave your kingdom and continue our journey to Egypt."

Her father pondered that for a moment. "Very well. But before I grant your request, I shall make one of my own."

Akos bowed his head deferentially and waited.

"I wish for your people to return that we may learn more about one another," her father said. "And when your people visit, I wish you to be among them, if it is possible. Please communicate this to your elders, as I will ask why you are not present if I do not see you again. As the only man, besides myself, who has ever scaled the walls of Alamut, I wish to hear more of how the feat was accomplished."

Akos seemed taken aback. "You have scaled the walls?"

Her father nodded. "Many years ago. I will tell you the story when you return."

Akos considered that "Did you use a felled tree to run up the side?"

Her father nodded. "How did you know that?"

"Because you knew how high to put the plaster so the feat could not be repeated."

"That is right."

Uh-oh. Danni knew that tone. Her father was impressed. This savage was impressing him, and no one impressed her father. Or certainly no suitor ever had.

Her father gestured to the door of the throne room. "You are free to search my kingdom for your stolen treasure," he said. "Explain to your companions that my guard, Simeon, accompanies you not as a jailer, but as an official emissary to my people that they are to cooperate. He will also make sure you leave at any time of your choosing. This is what you have asked of me, and I grant your request."

"Thank you, King," Akos said, bowing at the waist. His friends did the same behind him and when Akos gave them a nod, they all headed out.

None of the guests spoke as the four foreigners exited the room and their footsteps disappeared down the hallway.

Her father looked around the room and smiled. "Well, I don't think any of us were expecting that, were we?"

Then everyone started talking at once.


	5. Chapter 5

As they walked down the main hall and away from the banquet, Odon turned to Virag. "Now it's your turn. Where must we go to find the best strength for your spell?"

"Do you not feel it?" Virag asked, running her hand through the air as if it were water. "Magic fills the air in this place. The palace is awash with it. Anywhere would work fine for me."

Odon cast a look Simeon's direction. "Akos, can you get us a private room? Would our guide permit that?"

Akos turned to their guard and spoke in Sumerian. "Simeon, would you permit my companions the use of a room for them to prepare what is needed to find what we have lost? Any room will do."

Simeon hesitated, then nodded. "There is a sitting room for guests. No one is there now. I'll take you."

"He's taking us to a guest room," Akos translated, and they all fell in step behind Simeon, earning looks from the other guards as the moved toward the entrance of the palace.

When they reached the door, Virag stopped Akos from entering. "Stay here with the guard and make sure no one intrudes."

Akos nodded, stopping outside the door and motioning for Simeon to do the same. "We'll wait out here," he said in Sumerian, and Simeon nodded, seeming relieved.

"Also," Virag said before closing the door. "Remind him you need your clothes back, and see if you can be dressed by the time we finish the spell."

Akos smiled, knowing the clothes were already on their way as he took his post outside of the room with Simeon. A few minutes later, when the guard returned with the bag from Akos's saddle containing his clothes, Akos dressed quickly and shouldered the bag just as the door to the sitting room opened and Miklos stepped out, followed by the others.

"We're following him," Akos explained to Simeon, falling in step behind the metal smith. Simeon was visibly confused, but didn't argue.

No one spoke as Miklos led them out of the palace and into the courtyard. He hesitated for a moment before moving to the street and turning right.

"That is the way to the marketplace," Simeon said, pointing the opposite direction. "Most of the inns are this way."

"We go to the marketplace," Akos said, following Miklos.

Simeon hesitated another beat, looking like he wanted to argue before choosing to simply follow Miklos. "This area of the city has very few people in it after the market closes. The only people here will be vendors who live in their stores."

"Understood," Akos replied before pressing a finger to his lips to urge the man into silence. "Just follow where Miklos leads, good Simeon. He will lead us true and we do not want the thief to hear us coming."

Simeon nodded, visibly confused, but he understood stealth and fell in step in silence.

They walked in silence for several minutes. Miklos paused several times and backtracked once before his steps became quick and eager. "We are close," he whispered as his steps led them to a darkened doorway.

Akos turned to Simeon. "What is this place?"

"This man's trade is firing beads and other textiles in kilns for a price. He will be in there with his family."

Akos translated Simeon's words.

"Our man is in there," Miklos said.

"And the family is tied up," Virag added, her eyes unfocused as she gazed toward the store front. "The thief hasn't killed them…yet. They haven't answered all of the questions he has for them."

Odon looked at Akos. "And you promised the king we would not kill him?"

Akos nodded. "We must leave him alive, and Simeon will escort him to receive judgment from the king."

"He should die," Miklos said, and no one argued. By their law, the thief should die, but they were not in their own land. If they wanted to make it to Egypt as scheduled, they would have to leave the execution of justice in the hands of the king of Alamut.

"Does your mind's eyes see beyond the door?" Odon asked Virag.

She nodded. "He is sitting by the fire, examining the sound stone as he eats. If we burst in quickly, he will not have time to reach his weapon or harm the family."

"Then that's what we do," Odon said, stepping forward. Without so much of a breath of hesitation, the giant man kicked through the door, collapsing it inward before racing in. Akos followed in at a much calmer pace, his eyes searching for the family and finding them bound together against the far wall.

Trusting the rest of his team to handle the thief and the stone, Akos moved to the family and motioned for Simeon to follow. The soldier was predictably drawn to the fight on the other side of the room, but Akos needed the man's blade to free the family from their bindings.

"Release them," Akos said, gesturing to the family. "Odon will—"

"Akos!" Virag called out. "I need your climbing powder. Now!"

Despite being confused by the request, Akos reached to his belt and grabbed his chalk, tossing it Virag's direction. She caught the bag mid-air, covered her hands with powder and clasped her hand over the thief's mouth a moment before the thief went limp.

Was he dead?

"What happened?" Akos asked, stepping away from the family. "We were not supposed to kill him."

"He killed himself," Odon said as Virag muttered a spell before moving her powder-covered hand from the thief's face to her own, inhaling deeply.

"What is she doing?" Simeon asked, his hand poised on his sword as he eyed Virag.

"The thief killed himself," Akos said, barely believing it himself.

"How?" Simeon asked.

"How?" Akos repeated in his own language.

"Poison," Odon replied as Miklos reached down and picked up the artifact he had spent the last year making with such care.

Poison that worked that fast? Was it wise for Virag to be breathing it in?

"What do you see, Virag?" Odon asked. "Why would a thief kill himself so readily?"

"He betrayed someone powerful," Virag said, her eyes closed to better improve her vision. "Miklos's speech stone was intended as a gift to regain favor and remove the price on his head."

"But that is all the more reason to fight for it," Miklos said, stroking his creation lovingly.

Virag grew still. "I see…"

"Please release us!" the mother cried from behind Akos, and he held up his hand for silence.

"In a moment. We need silence right now," he replied in Sumerian, then turned his attention back to Virag.

"This city was his final destination," Virag said after several beats, her eyes closed as she looked inwards. "It was not a stop on a longer journey. The man our thief wished to impress resides here in Alamut."

"Yet he didn't head straight to him when he arrived?" Odon said. "He takes a family hostage instead? That is unusual. Why would he do that?"

"Because…it is a man in high standing…a man whose station required him to be at the banquet with the king tonight." Virag's eyes blinked open. "A man who wishes to be king."

"Someone who was just in the banquet hall we were in wishes to murder the king?" Odon asked.

"Yes," Virag said. "And the spirits are telling me that if Akos doesn't stay behind, the entire royal family will be murdered when the king is overthrown. I don't see who does it or how it is done, but if we wish to extend goodwill to this city then Akos is to remain behind."

No one said anything for a moment and the silence was heavy until the crying of a child sounded out from the corner of the room.

Akos turned to Simeon. "Release the family. We'll take the thief's body outside."

Simeon nodded, happily not asking any questions as he set to work freeing the family.


	6. Chapter 6

Rather than heading to the gates, Odon had instructed Akos to have Simeon return them to the king's presence

"I don't like it," Akos said as they walked down the hall to the throne room. "You need a herald."

"I have already summoned Mihaly in a dream," Virag said. "He will meet us where we last camped. He knows the place."

"That's two days' ride for him," Akos argued.

"And one day's ride for us," Virag said. "I trust we can make it a whole day in the wild without a translator while we wait for Mihaly to join us, Akos."

"Then why do I feel so unsettled?" he asked, fighting the urge to slow his steps as they drew closer to the king. "Why do I feel like staying here is the wrong choice?"

"Perhaps because you have never been away from our people before," Virag said, arching a brow his way. "Perhaps you are afraid."

"I am not afraid," Akos said, annoyed when Virag showed amusement by his denial.

"This is a good king," Odon said firmly. "Any man who plots his death would not be a friend to our people. It would serve us well to stop this assassination. If Virag says that your talents can prevent it, then I feel delaying our trek a day to wait for Mihaly is a fair sacrifice."

"Me, too," Miklos said.

That left Akos as the lone voice of dissent. In the end, however, his vote would be the only one counted. The decision was his, and his alone. And the fact was that Akos wanted nothing more than to continue on to Egypt. For the past year his entire life had been focused on being an ideal mouthpiece between his people and Pharaoh. Mihaly had served as falcon to Egypt on behalf of their people before, so Mihaly was capable of the task. But Akos was the one who had prepared.

Staying just felt wrong.

Yet did Akos want the king of Alamut to die just so he could meet Pharaoh? No. He did not. But the thought of staying in Alamut still filled Akos with unease.

"Make your decision quickly," Virag said. "At minimum, you should warn the king. But as you are the one who will be communicating him, the words he will hear are yours to choose."

Simeon held up his hand for them to stop and turned to Akos. "I will go in and announce you. Wait here until I return."

Akos nodded, translating for his friends before taking a deep breath.

What would he say to the king?

Three men in fine clothing exited the throne room before Simeon appeared and motioned Akos and his group in.

The throne room was empty this time. All the guests had left, but the tables had yet to be cleaned. Only the king and the queen remained in the room with their personal guards. One guard flanked each side of the stairway while the king and queen sat at the top of the stairway on their thrones. When the king saw Akos enter, he stood. Without a word, he descended down the steps and stood before Akos, eye to eye.

This was the position Akos was supposed to be in with Pharaoh before the end of the week. Instead it seemed all his studies would bring him only eye-to-eye with the king of Alamut…a man with a stunningly beautiful wife, who was also descending the steps to meet him.

"Akos," the king greeted. "It pleases me to see you again before you depart, although I almost didn't recognize you in clothes."

Akos glanced down at his long white coat with armored leather accents and nodded. "It feels good to be dressed this time."

The king let a grin slip out before looking Simeon's direction. "Simeon tells me that you have succeeded in recovering the item lost to you. Is this true?"

"It is true, King," Akos replied, his hands sweating nervously. That hadn't happened to him since he was a child. "We apologize that we were not able to bring the thief to you alive. But once discovered, he took his own life."

"That is what Simeon tells me as well," the king said with a frown. "He also tells a tale of you walking straight to the correct door and kicking it in without giving the thief any chance of escape."

"It seemed the best course of action," Akos said, ignoring the implied question of how they'd known to do that. Speaking of that meant speaking of Virag's magic, and speaking of her magic meant speaking of her vision for them.

As Akos debated what to say next, the king and the queen shared a look that was more like a conversation than any shared glance Akos had ever seen.

"Simeon has testified that you did everything in your power to take the thief alive," the king said. "The thief's death will not be placed at your feet, and no charges will be brought against you. You are free to leave."

Akos gave a small bow. "Thank you, King."

The king's eyes studied Akos in a way that had guilt welling up in Akos's soul.

Odon was right. The king was a good man who was about to be betrayed. There was every indication that fate did not wish that to come to pass. It had found a thief who knew of the plot to steal the sound stone and lead Akos and his team straight to the king. Akos had climbed a wall he shouldn't have been able to climb, spoken languages he had studied for the past year, and been handed a specific vision that he should stay.

When the fates had put in so much work to get Akos in this exact position, how could he walk away?

"So tell me, Akos," the king said, noting his hesitation. "What can I do for you now?"

Akos brought his eyes up and looked the king in the eye. "I fear, King, that I bear tidings of ill intent within your inner circle."

Both the king and the queen straightened.

"And where did you hear these tidings?" the king asked.

"From the thief," Akos said. "My priestess was able to capture his dying breath and see a vision of why he so eagerly took his own life. His spirit showed her that he did so because he has fallen out of favor with someone very powerful…someone who is intent on taking your throne for himself."

The queen stepped forward. "You are telling us that one among our friends wishes ill upon us?"

Akos hesitated, then nodded. "That is what Virag described. She did not see who it is or how they plan to succeed, but she believes if I stay behind that I may prevent tragedy."

The king's expression became unreadable as stone while the queen seemed to regard Akos thoughtfully.

"And you trust a woman's decision in this matter?" the queen asked.

"It is Virag's gift to see such things," Akos replied, somewhat confused to hear such a question from a woman. "It is not my gift. So, yes, I trust her to foresee the future like she trusts me to translate truthfully on her behalf. It is our way."

The queen tilted her head thoughtfully. "And what kind of protection does translator offer a king?"

"I do not know," Akos said. "The vision did not say."

From the corner of his eye, Akos watched a third guard step into the room using a secret passage. It took only a nod from this new guard to put the bodyguards into action. They drew their swords and came at Akos. Odon started to react behind him, but was stopped by Virag.

"Subdue them," Virag called out to Akos. "This is a test. I saw it."

Great. That would have been nice to know coming in, but in the end it didn't matter.

Akos brought up his hands to get a sense of the guards, and immediately sensed there was no magic in them. They were merely men who were proven in battle. He let them come.

When the first one raised his sword, Akos moved in, stuffing the blow before it could fall. Using his forehead, he broke the guard's nose before delivering a quick strike to his throat that would make breathing more difficult for a few minutes. Once the man choked on his next inhale, Akos stripped his sword away and used it to parry the incoming strike from the second guard.

It had been a true strike. This might very well be a test, but the blows were not being pulled.

When the next strike came, Akos absorbed it with his arm guard before stepping in and using the butt of the sword he held to strike the second guard unconscious. The guard's body stiffened and dropped.

Akos dropped the sword in his right hand so he could pull the wedged sword out of his armguard before the third guard covered the distance between them. This last guard was small man, and faster than the others.

The first swing came like a woodsman trying to split a tree in one blow. Akos stepped off to side, spun, and pressed the heel of his hand into the man's back to send him to the ground. The man hit the marble floor, skidding along the ground on his stomach before quickly popping up again, sword leveled at his navel. A feint came next, followed by a slash. Rather than moving away, Akos moved in again, spinning the guard into a hip throw. The guard weighed next to nothing, and flipped easily.

Akos could feel the last guard's intention to get up and continue the fight, and decided to stop this little test before one of the strikes drew blood. Stomping on the blade of the last guard's sword, Akos pinned the weapon down with his foot, looped his arm around the guard's neck, and squeezed.

Above him, the queen called out in protest, but the king held out his hand to silence her, all the while watching Akos closely. Akos decided to finish what he started by choking the last guard out.

The man didn't go quietly. It seemed he had more to prove than the others, and the moment he sensed he was truly in trouble, defensive magic bubbled into action. This guard had a gift of magic, but had clearly not put effort into mastering it, which meant it took little to overpower it.

Akos closed his eyes, opening them with the eyes of a seer to gaze upon the magic attacking him. It was unlike any he had seen before, but definitely wild and unmastered. That served Akos well, as magic did not like to be unstable. This wild magic would see his heart and listen to him.

Twisting his armguard to the spot where one of many magical stones was embedded, Akos pressed the Alexandrite stone into the guard's throat and whispered into his ear using the old language.

"I wish no harm. Be still that your master may come to know that the strength of man is not enough."

The bubbling magic immediately settled in a defiant huff. Akos could feel that the magic had been ignored for a long time. It exchange for being acknowledged and treated with respect, it seemed happy enough to teach its host a lesson and leave him to his own devices—devices that were clearly about to fail. There was too much emotion in the guard's movements…too much fire. It took only a few moments for that spitting fire to fade into cooling steam as the body in his arms passed out. He placed it on the floor.

The king's eyes watched Akos carefully. "I thought you said you are not a warrior, Akos."

"I am not," Akos said. "But as herald, I am allowed to defend myself from attack. Were it not so, all falcons would be very short lived."

The king did not respond immediately. He seemed to be choosing his words carefully while the queen looked unnerved at the mess Akos had made of their guards. Surely this was not her first time seeing combat. None of her men were dead. Two were just unconscious while a third was putting all his attention into breathing. They would all survive and be fit for duty the next day.

Virag surprised Akos by stepping forward and breaking the silence. "Good King," she called out in their native tongue, although there was a strange echo to it. "If we believed you needed one more man in your army to turn the tide of a battle, we would leave Odon in your service."

From the look in both the king and the queen's eyes, Akos could tell that they understood Virag's words, yet the queen's attention stayed focused on the final guard at Akos's feet, limp but breathing. He'd wake up in a few seconds.

"But the vision has shown me that it is Akos who must stay," Virag continued. "It is his skills you need, not Odon's skills in battle. There is no need to test Akos in combat, as this is not how he will be serving you."

The king stepped forward, eyeing Virag closely. "Your words do not match the movement of your lips. I see you speak your own language, yet I hear Persian. How is this so?"

To Akos's surprise, Virag held up the sound stone. She had invoked it.

"This is our gift to the Pharaoh," she replied, stepping forward.

It was the first time Akos had seen a sound stone in action and the effect was miraculous. Miklos had every reason to be proud of his work. It functioned perfectly, and since Virag clearly had something to say, Akos stepped back and gave her the floor.

"Please do us the honor of acknowledging that you are familiar with magic," Virag said, gesturing around them. "Your palace is situated on the largest vortex I have ever encountered, and the invoked spell of protection is actively upheld."

The king tensed while the queen stayed neutral for once. Akos blinked in surprise as he realized that the queen was the power holder of the two, and the king knew it.

The king ruled the state, but if Virag's words were true, the queen was the true ruler of Alamut. That would mean the relationship between the king and the queen wasn't so different than Virag and Odon's relationship—high priestess and her devoted bodyguard—which was a very dynamic unusual outside of Akos's tribe.

"So since both our peoples are guardians of magic," Virag continued. "I shall say this but once: Akos is our chosen guide to as we travel to Egypt and back. He was appointed to this station a year ago, and has prepared dutifully for his role each day since." Virag stepped forward, her demeanor treating the royalty as equals, even though she technically hadn't earned the right to be so forward. "The loss of him to our team is no small sacrifice for us. We shall lose a capable guide, and Akos shall lose the chance to see Egypt with his own eyes and spend time among Pharaoh." Virag narrowed her eyes, nearly glaring at the royal couple. "So please do not trivialize our offer to leave him behind to assist the king's family." She stepped forward again. "I have seen a vision showing the deaths of five in this royal family. I have seen the crown of Alamut on a usurper's head. Now we may leave you with this simple warning and trust you to save yourselves, or you may accept our offer to leave Akos behind, as my vision directed."

The thick tension in the air was one of the reasons it wasn't the best idea for Akos's people to have a sound stone among themselves. His people were very blunt and did not respect egos, like the falcons were trained to do.

Speaking with royalty required finesse. Virag, Odon, and Miklos had none. In most kingdoms, the speech Virag had just given would result in a decree of death or war, yet Akos had to believe that she had spoken out of turn with reason.

So he waited.

The queen was the one to step forward, her eyes glancing at the guard who was beginning to come to at Akos's feet. She spoke to Virag first.

"We graciously accept your offer," she said, earning a surprised look from her husband before turning her impossibly beautiful face upon Akos. "To make such a sacrifice, you must be convinced of this vision." Then she looked Virag. "And if a priestess of your apparent skill is convinced the vision is true, then I cannot disregard your counsel when the lives of my family are at stake."

Virag nodded, seeming to know that the queen's word on the matter was the final word.

For a moment there was silence, but it was broken when the guard at Akos's feet gasped—the sound distinctly feminine.

Wait. The guard was a woman?

Akos looked down in surprise, catching the sight of fair eyes looking up at him. He recognized them immediately. It was the gaze of the young woman who had been dressed in white and gold earlier that evening. A person didn't forget eyes such as hers. Half blue, half green, and all fire, like a fine opal.

Realization his Akos like a club to the gut.

He had just thrown a princess to the ground without any of the courtesies usually extended to royalty in a sparring session. He would be lucky if he was not beheaded for his behavior. In some kingdoms, he would already be dead.

He needed to feign ignorance.

Without hesitation, he reached down to offer the princess a hand up. "My apologies to the lady. I thought her to be a man, or I would not have subdued her so harshly." He bowed his head to the queen, understanding her earlier anxiety. He had literally been throwing her daughter around and choking her out like a heathen. "My apologies if my actions have upset the queen."

The king and queen shared a look as the princess regained her feet and stepped away from Akos. Though her expression was grim, the princess wasn't crying foul, so that was a start. And her parents? At second glance they actually looked…amused?

Could it be so?

Akos kept his eyes low, just in case, as he awaited pardon.

"Your skills are to be commended," the queen said. "For a man who claims not to be a warrior, your are quite good."

Akos hid a smile. Quite good? He had just taken out both their personal bodyguards and their daughter. That would unsettle any royalty.

"Whatever skills I have are in the service of the king and the queen for as long as I remain within the walls of your city," he said, taking a knee. "This much I promise you."


	7. Chapter 7

Akos hid his anxiety when Simeon opened the door to the palace room the king had designated for his stay. The room was luxurious. At a glance, Akos could see the sheets were from Egypt, yet the wood of the bed frame had come from the north as did the fur of the silver fox adorning the foot of the bed.

The King of Alamut was well-traveled, that much was clear. Yet the opulence was wasted on Akos. All things had their purpose, but if their only purpose was decoration, what was the point in stockpiling them? They were nothing more than added weight that needed to be hefted from place to place, unlike a horse that served or armor that protected.

As a lifelong nomad, Akos had long since learned to leave the pretty things of the earth where they lie and guard that which served him at all times…things like his horse down in the king's stables. Surely Szél was safe and being cared for, but he didn't like knowing that she was alone without so much as a familiar face to soothe her naturally restless spirit. She had to be uneasy in a pen, which made Akos uneasy. He would happily forego his fancy room in the high tower to sleep with his horse in the stables.

But that was not the king's will.

It was the king's will that Akos be placed in room with a guarded entrance and a hundred-foot drop outside of its only window. Perhaps the luxury of the room was intended to distract Akos from the fact that he had essentially been led to lavish cell.

It was safe to assume that for the moment he was not a fully trusted guest within the gates of Alamut.

Simeon gestured off to their left. "The chamber pot is located behind the screen and will be emptied each time you ring the bell attached to the string on the wall."

Akos nodded. "It is a beautiful room."

Simeon hesitated, looking as if he wanted to say something before thinking better of it. "Breakfast will be delivered to you at pre-dawn, and the king requests your company afterwards for a personal tour of the city."

"I will be ready."

"Rest well, honored guest."

Honored guest? Akos sincerely doubted that, but bent his head in acknowledgment as Simeon backed out of the room and shut the doors behind him. Then it locked.

Yes, this was definitely a plush cell.

Akos eyed the bed, knowing it was the last place he would sleep. Not only was his body unaccustomed to the insulation of a mattress, but the lofty pedestal held him up to an enemy for viewing or attack from the doorway. The safest place to sleep would be on the floor, between the bed and the outside wall.

But first, he would meditate. He needed to reach out to Szél and calm her. And maybe, in the process, he might actually succeed in calming himself enough to get some rest before the next sunrise.

It was worth a try.


	8. Chapter 8

As Dastan stripped out of his shirt, Tamina sat on the edge of their bed, her eyes lost in thought.

"You are worried," he said, knowing his wife well enough not to make it a question.

She nodded. "In all we have seen together, we have not seen the like of the tribe we encountered tonight. They are dangerous."

"Undoubtedly," Dastan said, tossing his shirt at the nearest chair. Tamina was so preoccupied, she didn't even notice. That was saying something. "The question is whether or not they are dangerous to us. I did not sense guile in them."

"Nor did I," Tamina said, still looking troubled. "But their claim that someone at our banquet tonight plots against us? That there are plans to kill us and our children?"

Dastan crossed over to her and took her hand. "It's troubling, but not implausible. We have lived through as much before."

Her lips pressed together before she gave a quick nod.

Dastan studied his wife. "What else is troubling you?"

The corner of Tamina's mouth curved up. "You read me too well."

"A requirement for survival, my dear," he said as he took a seat next to her on the bed. "So tell me what troubles you about our visitor."

He knew the answer before she opened her mouth to speak, but waited for his wife to choose her words anyway. He'd learned many years before that a wise husband never put words into the mouth of his wife.

"The young man…Akos," she said. "He defeated our guards and Danni with such ease. If that had been a battle, those men would not be coming home. And yet, this Akos is not even considered a warrior among his people."

Dastan nodded solemnly. He'd been thinking along the same lines, but been keeping it to himself.

"And the rest of the tribe?" she continued. "They watched him battle our guards so dispassionately. The true warrior among them looked so…"

She didn't finish the sentence, but she didn't need to. Dastan had seen it, too. The one they called Odon was as formidable of a warrior as Dastan had ever encountered.

As his wife has so succinctly put it: This tribe were dangerous. All of them.

The question was: Were they allies?

It was nice to imagine that the answer to that was yes, but a king could not afford to make such leaps of faith.

"I will spend time with our guest tomorrow," he said, resting his hand on Tamina's shoulder and giving it a squeeze. "We'll find out where the threat truly lies—whether it is with these new foreigners, or within the circle of our friends."

Or both. But he did not offer this last option aloud.

Tamina did not look comforted as she met his eyes.

"Before tonight I comforted myself with the fact that even if our eldest daughter isn't a lady, she can take care of herself in a fight," she confessed. "Danni's always been drawn to the manly trades and been driven to compete with Mazda. She prefers armor to jewels and leather to silk. I told myself the whole time that it was all okay, because it meant she could protect herself. She beats all the soldiers in training and moves so well…but then I see her battle tonight against one who has no respect for her or her station."

Dastan felt his chest tighten as Tamina's eyes filled with tears before she blinked them back.

"That foreigner—a translator, not even another soldier—made Danni look like a bumbling child, Dastan. He had nothing but his bare hands and he bested her with ease."

Yet another fact that had not escaped Dastan. But he had also let go of the belief that this Akos was a mere translator.

A young man who scaled walls other men could not even grip? A man who spoke dozens of languages with native fluency and no accent? Who had the mark of protection of no less than six kings Dastan knew of tattooed onto his body? A man who had the muscles of an animal on the frame of a man, and who moved with the stealth of a jaguar hunting in the shadows?

No. This man was no simple translator. Whatever a "falcon" was in his tribe, Akos was underselling himself in his description. Akos was a translator like a falcon was a bird. He might be a breed of translator, but he was a translator of very rare caliber. Underestimating Akos would be like approaching a falcon in the same fashion he would a dove.

Such an underestimation would end badly.

"And did you notice that they very purposefully refrained from naming their homeland?" Tamina added interrupting his thoughts. "We have no idea who these people are, only that this lone man could very well kill everyone in this palace tonight while we slept."

"He won't," Dastan said, not sure why he was so confident in his claim. Because Tamina was right. Akos did indeed have the skill to creep room-to-room and silently dispatch people, one-by-one.

But he wouldn't.

Not because he wasn't a dangerous man, but because he wasn't a killer. Dastan could see it in the young man's eyes. After decades of meeting other men in battle, of laying siege and conquering conspiring men, Dastan had learned a thing or two, and his experience told him that even if Akos had killed before, he was not a killer. In that way, the young man was exactly what he claimed to be: the first and last bridge to peace.

Akos was a man who walked alone into the camp of the enemy to offer terms of truce. Dastan believed that after seeing Akos fight. There hadn't been even a moment of panic when the guards attacked. He had taken action that had caused the least harm and stepped away.

Dastan had little doubt that it wasn't the first time Akos had reduced a king's defenses to nothing in the name of delivering a message. And Akos definitely delivered a message with his actions that was louder than anything that came out of his mouth. Tamina had heard it loud and clear, and Danni probably had too.

None of them were as safe as they thought they were. Years of peace had lowered their guard and left them complacent.

That would have to change. Immediately.

"We need to keep him close," Tamina said. "To us. I think you might be the only one in the kingdom who can defeat this Akos in a fight."

Dastan nodded. "I plan on keeping him close. We will tour the city tomorrow. But I need you to consult the oracles and the charts to see if we misread the omens that brought him here."

"At first light," she said with force, before meeting his eyes. "No one's taking our babies, Dastan. I don't care who they are—whether it's Akos or one of your brothers. If anyone plan on hurting our children, I will run them through myself."

Dastan pressed a kiss to her temple. "And I will hand you my sword so you can do the honors."

Tamina leaned her head onto his shoulder and wrapped her arm around his waist. "I don't want to be scared, but I am. My mind just keeps replaying how easily Akos disarmed Danni before choking her out. We both know that she is stronger than Mazda in battle, and Luna is a defensive fighter only. Yet if all three attacked this translator at once, he would easily—"

"It's not helpful to obsess on that," Dastan said. "I know it's your mother's instinct to do so, but it creates exactly the kind of fear that leaves one vulnerable to strategic attack. You're the one who taught me that."

She smiled at the memory and took in a shaky sigh. "Yes, but our kids weren't involved at the time."

"Very true," he agreed. "So for now we stick to our plans. I will spend as much time as possible with this Akos tomorrow, while you consult the oracles to see what we can learn there."

Tamina nodded, taking a deep breath. "Yes…although I don't know if I'll be able to sleep tonight. I'm far too tense."

Dastan tilted her face his direction to get a read on her mood and found an impish grin playing at the corners of her mouth. He smiled back. "Strangely enough, I am also feeling tense."

"Is that so?" she said, her hand running up her chest playfully before her expression turned serious and she pressed their foreheads together. "Actually, no games. I just need you tonight. No teasing. No playing. Just you."

Dastan cradled her jaw in his hand. "I think I can handle that."


End file.
